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Tag Archives: Literature
Where be the Blackbird?
I know where he be. Next door’s front garden, head cocked to one side, orange beak grasping an almost-ripe cherry from my tree. I look round at the tree: the slender branch, once perilously bowed under the weight of its … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, birds, Blackbird, cherries, fiction, fruit, Ireland, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Ormeau Road, short story, Vernacularisms, writing
2 Comments
The Appointment
Who the fuck is Jerome? No idea. No matter how deep I scrabble around in the usually-fertile soil of my memory, there is nothing there. I don’t recall meeting anyone called Jerome. Ever. But there it is: a reminder on … Continue reading
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Tagged appointment, Autocorrect, Belfast, Bellini, faith, frape, Jason O'Rourke, Jerome, King's Head, Library, Literature, phone, Queen's University, relationships, Saint, short story, students, Vernacularisms, WPLongform, writing
2 Comments
Guest post: ‘sometimes’, by Martin McKenna
sometimes when the traffic weakens you feel you could have the run of the city in memorium. when there were no capitalisations, only silent confetti and these light needles back through these shut blinds seam all the day mine. … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, fear, Literature, Martin McKenna, place, poetry, traffic, Vernacularisms, writing
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Guest Post: ‘from a kitchen on ravenhill’, by Martin McKenna.
as rain sloshed everything else, you in my gut, again. i try to think about outside, again. buck chopping board smile, the sag of my knives give away the other side. spear through to blot bottle of wine … Continue reading
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Tagged Beckett, Belfast, kitchen, Literature, poetry, rain, Ravenhill Road, relationships, Vernacularisms, writing
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No Laughing Matter
Nobody knew where it came from, or how it spread so far, so quickly. It appeared on three continents in the course of one day; a mark on the calendar that became portentously known as Day 1. It was soon … Continue reading
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Tagged Azerbaijan, Belfast, Benny Hill, border, Cobh, Cork, Ebola, epidemic, faith, Father Ted, Fawlty Towers, First Minister, Frank Carson, Hugh Grant, humour, Hyena, Ireland, Jason O'Rourke, Jim Davidson, Kitchener, LAD, laughter, Literature, Long Kesh, loyalists, Malone Road, measles, Mexico City, Mrs Brown's Boys, New York Times, Only Fools and Horses, Outbreak, pandemic, Pink Panther, politics, Porridge, Rathlin Island, Red Dwarf, republicans, Shoot-to-kill, short story, Steve Martin, Stormont, Sydney, UTV, Vernacularisms, violence, Virus, WPLongform, writing
7 Comments
Guest Post: ‘A Genius’ by Colin Dardis.
It is 2:30am when Graham spies me from across the road. Uh-oh. I said goodnight to Graham about an hour and a half ago so I could go and finish the night off in the gambling parlour, and now I … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, cats, Colin Dardis, Friday night, gambling, Literature, Poet, South Belfast, Vernacularisms, vodka, vomit, writing
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Today’s Existentialist Rant
Driving back up the road after dropping my daughter off at school, I notice a middle-aged woman wrangling a blue wheelie bin into position outside her back gate. She looks miserable, the corners of her mouth turned down into a substantial, world-hating … Continue reading
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Tagged Ants, Belfast, Carolan Road, Dead Cat, death, Existentialism, exploitation, futility, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Mother Nature, Ormeau Road, poverty, Queen, Radiohead, rant, Selfishness, short story, Vernacularisms, writing
2 Comments
Cars, Ormeau Road, Part 2.
Black Maserati, revving; stuck in traffic.
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Tagged Belfast, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Maserati, Ormeau Road, short story, Six-word story, Vernacularisms, writing
2 Comments
Guest Post: ‘A New Corner’ by Claire Savage
Royal Avenue hums with activity the further along she goes, pedestrians filtering in from side streets; dropping out of shop doorways and sliding into the throng from the Metros. The buses cut a path past Castlecourt, Tesco, McDonalds, like pink … Continue reading
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Tagged Belfast, Boots, Castlecourt, City Hall, Claire Savage, coffee, fiction, Literature, McDonald's, Royal Avenue, Russia, short story, Street music, Tesco, Vernacularisms, writing
5 Comments
Vernacularisms 